"Thank you. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you sometimes."
By ten the next morning, Kira was still lounging around in her pajamas and robe. She had no energy to do anything. She felt completely drained. She had spent most of the morning bent over the toilet, throwing up, and now she just felt exhausted. Her stomach still uneasy, she carefully made her way to the sleeper couch—one that Jake had, for once, actually made before disappearing off to who-knows-where earlier that morning. He always vanished for hours, doing who-knows-what in who-knows-where. Kira had been relieved when he left because his constant cheerfulness was getting on her nerves.
She was debating whether to try eating something when a knock sounded at the front door. She frowned. She wasn't usually home at this time, so she had no idea who it could be. Their building had an intercom system, so unexpected knocks were unusual.
The knock came again. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the couch, pausing for a moment to make sure her nausea was under control before heading for the door. There was no peephole, so she had to take the direct approach.
"Who's there?" she called. A long silence followed, making her wonder if the person had left.
"It's me."
The voice was slightly muffled but instantly recognizable. Kira froze.
When she didn't respond, the knock came again, louder this time—firm and impatient, exactly like him.
"It's me, Clover!" he said, his voice edged with frustration. "Open the door."
"No."
"What?"
She could practically feel his shock through the door.
"I said no. Go away."
"I'm not leaving until we settle this," he said firmly.
"I didn't think there was anything to settle. You already made up your mind."
"I'm not discussing this through a door. If you don't open it, I'll kick it down. And judging by how thin this wood is, that won't be hard."
"Not everyone can afford fancy wooden doors," she shot back. And unfortunately, he was right—the wood was so thin she could hear him sigh.
"I'm counting to three. If you don't open the door, I will—"
Annoyed, she yanked the door open. Only after she was face-to-face with him, dressed in his expensive suit, did she remember what she was wearing—fluffy polka-dot pajamas, a fuzzy pink robe, and pink-and-white bunny slippers. Her hair was a mess, and after throwing up all morning, she probably looked just as bad as she felt. The way he stared at her confirmed it.
"Your hair…"
She blinked at him in confusion. Why was that the first thing he noticed? Then she remembered. Her hand went up to her short bob, fingers brushing the bleached tips she and Jake had dyed pink the night before.
"I don't have to look like a corporate employee anymore," she said with a small shrug.
"It's pink."
"Just the ends."
He dragged his horrified gaze from her hair down the rest of her outfit.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked, frowning in confusion.
"I didn't see the point in getting dressed when I have nowhere to be."
"And you didn't think of looking for a new job?"
Rich people really had no clue about real life. His judgmental tone irritated her.
"I just got fired yesterday. I haven't had time to sit down and look for jobs yet."
He nodded, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he glanced around the small, slightly messy apartment.
"This building has terrible security. Some guy in baggy jeans and a Rastafarian cap just held the door open and waved me through."
"Oh."
"I think he was high," Tesah said, sounding unimpressed.
"If it's who I think it is, then yeah, definitely." Young Isaac from down the hall was always high. Kira had no idea how he managed to get any studying done. Tesah frowned.
"And you feel safe living here?"
"Why are you here?" she asked, ignoring his question.
"Can I sit?"
She hesitated before nodding. He glanced around before heading to the kitchen table, waiting for her to join him. When she did, he pulled out a chair, gestured for her to sit, and then took his own seat. The gentlemanly gesture threw her off a little.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he stared down at his hands, loosely folded on the table. The silence stretched, making her shift uncomfortably.
Then he lifted his eyes and locked her in that intense gaze of his. She froze under his stare, feeling like she was being studied under a microscope.
"You're pregnant."
"I know."
"How far along are you?" he asked. Without thinking, her hand dropped to her stomach, still amazed that there was a life growing inside her.
"Twelve weeks," Kira whispered. "This week, her eyelids started forming properly."
"'Her'?" Tesah asked gruffly. Kira snapped out of her thoughts and focused on him again.
"The baby is a 'she' this week. Last week, it was a 'he.' Last week was exciting—the baby started making tiny fists. Can you believe that? A little life, barely the size of a prune, with tiny hands that can make fists?"
"Can you feel it doing that? Making fists and all?" he asked, sounding curious despite himself.
"No, I can't," she admitted. "I've been reading this week-by-week pregnancy book. It's really helpful."
There was another long, awkward silence. Kira was trying to think of a way to get him to leave. "I wish I had security guards too," she muttered, mostly to herself.
Tesah frowned. "So you could kick me out?" He sounded more amused than offended.
"I want you to leave," she said honestly. "I don't like having you here."
"I came to tell you that I agree to your terms. I've signed the papers. If the baby is mine, I'll provide financial support."
"You won't try to take her from me?" she asked softly, voicing her biggest fear.
"No. Your baby doesn't concern me. You don't concern me. I just want this over with as soon as possible."
Kira had expected this response, but it still hurt. Not for her sake, but for the baby. She had always known where she stood with Tesah Clover, but her child deserved better. A father who cared. But Tesah was cold and distant—he would have been a terrible father anyway. Kira had grown up without a dad, and even though life had been tough, she had survived. Lexington barely remembered their father; the man had stuck around for five years before leaving their mother less than a month after Kira was born. Their mother had never been stable, and after struggling for a few years, she had left them with their grandparents and disappeared to Asia. They never heard from her again. After their grandparents passed away, Lexington had received word that their mother had died. He had flown to Nepal to handle her funeral, returning with only a few boxes of her things. And that was it—a lonely, sad ending to a lonely, sad life.
"Why didn't you just send your lawyer?" Kira asked Tesah. "You didn't have to come yourself."
"I wanted to make it very clear—this is all there will ever be between us. Just financial support for the child, if it's mine."
"Understood," she murmured. As if she needed him to spell that out for her.
"And I wanted to say... maybe I acted too quickly in firing you."
"Too quickly?" she repeated. "Try unfairly. And harshly. You treated me like a criminal. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to be thrown out by security? I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. People think I was fired for stealing!"
Tesah shifted uncomfortably, his broad shoulders tensing.
"That wasn't my intention," he said.
His words made her even angrier. She hadn't realized just how much the whole situation had affected her until now.
"Is that supposed to be an apology?" she challenged. "Because if it is, you need to do better."
"Look, arguing won't solve anything," he deflected. "I want to offer you another job."
"In HR?" she asked, deciding to let the topic go for now.
"No, that would raise too many questions. I want to transfer you to the Medina office."
Oh, so he wanted to move her far away. A different city, far from her cousin, Becky, and her friends. Wouldn't that just make his life easier? Not that Kira wanted to stay close to Tesah, but she didn't want to feel like she was being pushed away either. She just wanted to move on and forget she ever met him.
"I can't move to Johannesburg," she said firmly.
"Be reasonable. You'll need a job. You can't raise a baby with just the support money I'm offering."
"You be reasonable," she shot back. "Sure, a salary would help, but I also need emotional support. I need my cousin, Becky, and my friends. I need to be somewhere familiar. This is my first pregnancy, and I'm doing it alone. The last thing I need is to move to a strange city."
He was silent for a long moment, then finally nodded slightly.
"Fine. I'll see if I can arrange something else," he conceded.
"I don't need any favors from you, Mr. Clover," she replied. He almost looked embarrassed at the title he had once insisted she use. "Just child support. You don't have to take responsibility for any other part of my life."
"Still, I'm the reason you lost your job. I acted rashly, and I want to make up for that."
"A good reference will do just fine," she said.
Something in the back of her mind warned her not to trust him, the same instinct that had tried to stop her in Medina. But, just like before, she ignored it. She had her pride. Depending on him for child support was bad enough—she wasn't about to depend on him for a job, too. Not after the way h
e had fired her.
And, she noted, he still hadn't actually apologized.